Symbol of Friendship
by Elfwine
Summary: But the word doesn't feel right, doesn't do my feelings any justice, because it is such a feeble expression. Gmil gets a small cold and Legolas sings a song. Just a small one-shot in the Elf's POV.


**Symbol of Friendship**

My father use to say that _everyone_ has a little darkness in themselves, even us. It's our nature to love, despair and despise. This is not something you can just beat away. It is what makes the soul. I know _nothing_ is soulless. Even the dead who harbor regrets and are indecisive. They linger and wait, patient as forever but just as hungry for release. There is no turning back from the path they walk, without ends or turns. A sad thought for the living I think. Gimli's rattling brings me back and I pound him on the back gently even as he waves me away. I think the chill he has caught does not come from the air but from the oath breakers who are closed tightly around our small group of rangers. But I don't share these thoughts with Gimli, for it is likely I will wound his pride more than snare a rebuke.

"The shadows are cold along the valleys and the mountain." Gimli grumbles, as if this simple explanation is excuse enough to silence my unspoken concern, which he has grown almost tolerant of. He straightens and kicks at the dead earth angrily. Dust rises around us like gray powder. The edge of my brow pops up in amusement as I listen to him mutter under his breathe in a fit of complaints. It's all about smoke and rain. One of my least favorite things would be the smoke, for me however the rain is another matter. "But nothing can be colder than the dead." Gimli says, his breath dragging through the air like a lazy, soft summer cloud. I watch the warm moist evaporate into the air, much like my own hopes for the salvation of my inner peace. Instead of dwelling on such bitter thoughts I roll my shoulders.

Gimli notices this gesture and grunts softly, an unspoken question. I urge my lips into a soft smile. "A chilly sore between the blades of my shoulders." His down cast gaze tells me that my simple explanation for now will suffice. This personal ground can be approached, but I feel less inclined to dread my impending dues without the reminder hanging over my head the entire walk. _You would like to believe that your heart could embrace and rejoice under such a terrible conclusion wouldn't you Greenleaf?_ Would that I could! Oh how I wish I could! There has always been a sense of doom lingering on us all, like a heavy scent of oil and smoke. Now our fellowship is a broken chain, but only in need of repair. A little patience and a good keen focus can mend these disjointed links and can cover the distance that separates us from each other.

Gimli spits at the dirt, harassing the gloomy atmosphere. "I loath this one path, everything is gray and dead!" He leans closer still, his voice is barley audible. "This will be the worst part of it. Mark my words; when the dead walk even the earth becomes ill with fever from the cold." I can hear his leather gauntlets creaked as his grip on the great battleaxe in his big hands tighten with every bitter word. "When times like this advance I usually whistle to a tune that happens to come to mind. Some I make up as I go along." He admits, rolling his big shoulders carelessly. "Even the ones I sing aloud." Gimli's declaration makes me smile, but as I look at him, I feel a tang of sadness that reflects in his bright eyes. Then I notice the deltaic lines of black and gold, and the shining gleam that claims the spirit of those brown orbs. It is something that I wish to see until the end and after.

"Know you any songs, Legolas?" Gimli's curiosity is to pass the time, I think. It's another way to deprive us both from dark and grim thoughts. But this course of topic brings me to an odd memory. Something I have not thought of in many, many years. _She_ use to sing to me at night; it was the only time I felt safe. Like a warm blanket of air that surrounds a flame. But the words will not escape me in my native tongue. I realize now that it's more than that. My mind is refusing to let go, but I breathe and draw out the first syllable while Gimli waits for my voice to rise higher. The pitch is poor at first, so I wait another silent moment to calm my mind before I continued with the first verse. It's a sad but short shot of words, with no story, just a few lessons we all come to learn in life. Even as I end with the last bit still sliding away into the gray morning Gimli scoffs, but there is a small bit of understanding sadness in those eyes. Why must everything disperse so quickly, I wonder.

"You could have sung a cheery song?!" His cry of displeasure is half-heartedly but there is a wicked gleam that can only mean trouble is afoot. So I mock him with an angry pout. "It is not _so_ difficult. All you have to do is think happy thoughts, and it comes to you." Gimli spreads his arms, a strange gesture I think. He continues to explain, trying to give me other examples. I smile as he goes on and on. "And it should be sung in the tongue of Men." He tells me. "I doubt you have learned enough Dwarvish to sing-No!" Gimli looks at me dubiously. "I think not. Then at least translate. No Dwarf can understand a blasted word of Elvish. By the sound of your voice it was not a very uplifting peace either." Another unspoken question. We have always been this way, but I wonder when and where it began. It still amuses me; how he can carry on like so and never hear himself. Then again, it's another part of Gimli that makes him different. Something I almost envy.

Gimli coughs again, his nose is reddened and his eyelids almost thicker than before. The fatigue is quite clear to my eyes. We are all weary from constant journeying; with so many miles covered is such a short quantity of time. "You do not sleep well enough my friend. And that cough sounds worse than the last." I say. Gimli scoffs dismissively as he rests his axe against one should, pretending not to notice. I shake my head as we walk on, his waddling stride keeping alongside my brisk pace. Oh if my father could see us now! The very thought brings me back to the song. It reminds me of how joyful my family use to be. Now those memories only make me sad. But the word doesn't feel right, doesn't do my feelings any justice, because it is such a feeble expression. Adar has changed. But I will not shun Gimli because of it. I will defined the symbol of our friendship, and for all it represents.

**(Authors Note: Please understand that I write only what I need to say, this means I don't add any unnecessary description or dialogue. Writing more than I really need only gives me writers block and choppy scenes. Besides the word count I would greatly appreciate some honest opinions about this little piece and the style it is written in. ****Everyone mentioned in this chapter belong to Tolkien himself. But one word is Elvish; Adar. This is a one-shot with no real plotline. This is meant to express a friendship between and Elf and a Dwarf. Thank you for reading!)**


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